Contra Mundum
by Lord Axxingtons
Summary: Mondo's first mate aboard his brother's pride and joy, the pirate ship Crazy Diamond. But when a storm causes things to go badly and leave him in charge, a rash decision to kidnap a medical student ends up having wider consequences than he expected. (Pirate AU, discontinued)
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: This fic is pretty much discontinued - it's pretty unlikely that I'll pick it up again. I just wasn't sure enough where I was going and it wasn't my favourite piece of writing. That said, some people seemed to like it, so I'll upload the 4 chapters I have!**

**Although there were Japanese pirates in the 15-17th century, this is a generic age-of-sail Western AU because I'm more knowledgeable writing in that territory. Really it's all just for funsies.**

* * *

Midnight. The stars were out, but Mondo couldn't see them. Any dots of light in the sky were obscured by the thick and furious stormclouds that raged above the Crazy Diamond, testing her resilience against the worst the elements could throw at Daiya's crew.

"Mondo, take the helm!" his brother instructed, and he felt a surge of pride even in the current danger, throwing himself into the task of guiding the Diamond steady through the lashing rain and turbulent waves, despite hardly being able to see a thing - any torches they tried to light quickly burnt out.  
"I need all able-bodied sailors on deck!" Daiya bellowed. "That includes you, Hanamura!"

Even Hanamura was getting called away from his kitchen duties to steer them through the storm... Shit must really be getting serious. Mondo wasn't captain material, but he knew they had to dock somewhere soon or they'd just get dashed up against the looming cliffs. But give away their identity and they'd be hanged if they showed up in any peaceful town, and they weren't ready for a raid... They'd have to hope they wouldn't be recognised. Unfortunately, although it was usually a source of pride, their crew had gained quite a bit of notoreity.

The boatswain, Kuzuryuu, gripped Mondo's shoulder for support as he ran to the bow and tugged on a rope to bring in the flying jib before it sustained any more damage. The guy might be short, but his eyepatch and scarred head were testimony to the number of fights he'd survived. His girl, Peko, was the only wench the ship allowed, as they seemed to be a package deal - although all the crew knew better than to try anything with her lest they lose a few more fingers, as she was actually one of their deadliest assets in a battle. Now, however, he knew she'd be down in her quarters - his brother was traditional when it came to chivalry.

"Hard a-starboard! There's a port we can try for!" Daiya was breathlessly instructing.  
"It's midnight! She'll be locked, right?" protested Hagakure, the gunner.  
"Raise the distress flag! And Mondo, good job, now-"

Daiya never finished his sentence. A howling gust of wind hammered against the mainsail and sent the main boom askew. It swung around wildly and Daiya Oowada, the captain of the Crazy Diamond, stood proudly on its quarter deck, made a textbook mistake - he didn't duck.

Mondo yelled. It wasn't manly, he couldn't keep his cool. But Daiya was on the ground out cold, with a thick pool of blood coming out of his head. "Grab the helm!" he spat at Kuzuryuu, dropping the wheel to rush to his brother's side all the way across the main deck. He dropped to the floor and supported Daiya's head, but the guy was already flat unconscious.  
"Fucking hell! Do something!" he yelled desperately. Oh shit, he was first mate. That meant... he had to give the orders now.

It must have been some sort of panic reaction, because at once even with the storm raging and his brother bleeding out into his hands, things became crystal clear to Mondo. "Hanamura! Still raise that distress flag! Someone'll open the gate for us! Souda, do somethin' about Dai-the captain! Kuzu, hold her steady until we can guide her into the port! We'll just have to find a surgeon who's up late! And for fuck's sake be sure to take down the skull and crossbones!"

Kuzuryuu was no natural-born helmsman, but someone must have taken pity on their ship in the storm because the gate to this sleepy little port in a town they didn't recognise finally opened and Kuzu edged them in, slightly grazing the hull, but otherwise keeping her intact.

Inside the bay, the water and sky were calmer. His heart beating wildly, Mondo couldn't mentally urge the rudder to move them forward fast enough until eventually they were close enough to land to get in the jollyboats.  
"Load up the captain into the jollyboat!" Mondo yelled.  
"C-cap, there's no way he can get in one, his skull's too badly hit! We can't move him..." Souda protested, examining the wound. Mondo's fingers tightened in his brother's hair. They were calling him captain now. This couldn't be happening...

"All right. I'll go." He decided. "I'm gonna find a surgeon. You take care of him." He didn't dare say anything more final as he parted from Daiya - that would be acknowledging the worst. He ran to the hatch, opened it and yelled "CHIHIRO, GET SOME DAMN TOWELS UP HERE, FAST!", the words echoing through the dingy hold.  
Not pausing to look, knowing the timid galley slave would do just as he was told, Mondo leapt over the ship's edge into the awaiting boat being prepared by Nidai, the mate. The guy's strong arms came in handy as they rowed rapidly into land, praying for a miracle.

Kiyotaka regretted everything. Letting his friends take him out to this pub had been a huge mistake. It was raucous, full of drunken idiots, and giving him a slow but insistent headache. He perched on a barstool sipping at a root beer and had just made up his mind to slip out the door amidst the drunken choruses, when said door slammed open and two enormous guys - one who had fresh bloodstains up to his forearms - marched in like they'd just seen the eighth circle of hell.

He cowered, and the activity in the bar drew to a halt. The smaller of the two newcomers (though by no means small) raised his voice and yelled "IS THERE A GODDAMN SURGEON IN HERE?"

Ishimaru, shamefully, for a moment found himself in two minds about telling the truth. If he really agreed to help these scary-looking guys, he might get mixed up in something bad... but if he lied, what kind of person would that make him?  
He hoped someone else would speak up, but when nobody did, he tentatively stood up and said "I am a medical student, I could try-"

"You're comin' with us!" the bigger guy roared and practically hoisted a faintly protesting Ishimaru over his shoulder. Kiyotaka watched fuzzily as his friends stared at him with alarm, but was unable to escape the iron grip of these two giants. Oh god, what had he got himself wrapped up in...?

They shoved the little guy into the longboat and powered away without a word. Mondo wasn't confident about this shivering little drip, who after all was not even an actual surgeon, but it was the best they had.  
"Um, where are we going?" the guy eventually managed to enquire.  
"Our ship. Captain's hurt bad. You're gonna save him." Mondo didn't have time for pleasantries.  
"W-well, I can't work miracles!"  
"You're gonna save him."

They scaled the barnacled bulkhead back onto deck, the new guy looking astonished, as if he'd never been on a boat in his life. Daiya looked grim, face washed of colour, as Chihiro pressed towels anxiously against his head wound, but at least he was still breathing. Mondo ran to his brother's side, and the new guy hastily followed.  
"We need alcohol!" he instructed.  
"Got plenty!" Leon crowed, swinging down into the hold to bring up a crate of beer.  
"I really meant more rubbing alcohol, but this will do..." The medic fussed over Daiya's head, gently placing his brother into a more natural lying position, cracking open the barrel of beer - huh, this little weed must be stronger'n he looked - and pouring the contents onto one of Chihiro's less blood-soaked towels, pressing it hard against the wound at the back of Daiya's head.

Mondo could practically feel the sting himself, so it was a delight when the pain of the sudden pressure caused Daiya to jerk up, take a wild swing at the new guy, who neatly dodged, and then fall back down again.  
"H-he's alive!" Mondo tried to restrain how anxious he sounded. He took a swig of the beer himself - couldn't hurt.  
"For now, but I'm afraid that was probably a reflexive action. He's not conscious yet. But I'll bandage the wound, and that'll hopefully stop up the blood loss enough to let him recover... I don't know how deep the hit was yet."

"Who even is this guy, captain?" Souda had to ask.  
Mondo bit his lip. Captain, that was him for now. "Some medic I picked up in a pub. Best we've got."

"Don't you have a qualified surgeon aboard?" The new guy enquired breathlessly as he tore off strips of material from his shirt and wrapped them around Daiya's head. "I though all naval ships had to be equipped with-"  
They all saw him realise it. "You're... not with the navy, are you?"

"Fraid not." Mondo shrugged. There was little point denying it.  
The surgeon went wide-eyed. "I - I - criminals -"

A shout came from outside on the water, and Mondo rushed over to see a government-looking guy standing in a rowboat, shouting up at them. "This vessel is unidentified, and will remain in the custody of Her Majesty from now until further notice, as will all crew! Please do not resist, or we will open fire!"

"Open fire?" Leon yelled boldly over the edge. "How's this for open fire?"  
He cackled and blocked his ears as one of their cannons burst off with an earthshattering boom; likely the work of Hagakure below deck. Those two were insane, but kind of brilliant, Mondo marvelled.

Except, shit, they'd hit a building. Which was now on fire. And the people in the bay were starting to look very angry.  
"Let's fuckin' move it!" he yelled, and Kuzuryuu, stil at the helm, didn't need to be told twice. Naegi pulled up the mainsail to catch a breeze that would power them out of the port, and they began to hastily retreat.

The surgeon yelped. "W-wait! What the heck? What am I supposed to do?"  
"You can fuckin' save my brother like I told you to" Mondo growled, watching the angry citizens attempt to return fire from the quarter deck.  
The guy stared, and Mondo realised this was the first time he'd slipped up and referred to Daiya as his brother, not the captain.

"Well uh... He's stable now, you'd better put him in his quarters or something... But... I can't stay here! I can't! What about my work? What about thelaw?"

"In case you hadn't worked it out, we're pirates, matey," Souda grinned with his shark mouth. "We make our own laws."  
"You can't do this!" the guy yelled and lashed out at Mondo, managing to catch him off guard and actually bruise his cheek with a well-aimed punch. Mondo grabbed the surgeon by the shoulders. Guy had more balls than he'd thought.

"Right now, I'm the captain of the Crazy Diamond, and I'll do what I want." he hissed. Not looking away from the frightened surgeon's red eyes, he snapped "Take the captain down to his bed for the night. Carefully."  
"What about him, cap'n?" Souda enquired, indicating the surgeon.  
"Him you can tie to the mainmast." Mondo said coldly, dropping him. "I'm going to my quarters."


	2. Chapter 2

**Some mildly sexist thoughts from Ishimaru in this chapter due to the period. **

Birds circled overhead, keening faintly as Ishimaru stirred into consciousness, his pale skin sensitive against the sun's rays. His back and arms achingly twisted around the mast that the man with the shark-teeth had tied him to. Opening one eye and seeing nobody on deck - everyone else, he bitterly supposed, was still downstairs in their comfortable quarters - Ishimaru risked a glance around at the vessel that was the only thing separating him from the expansive sky and the seemingly even more expansive sea.

The _Crazy Diamond_, a creaking wooden hunk of wood and metalwork that looked as though it should have been retired decades ago, was drifting gently forward in the now-clear ocean. The dirty mainsail fluttered in a faint breeze; it was the only disturbance. Hearing faint squeaks from the rust-encrusted joints of the rudder and helm, Ishimaru didn't spot the boatswain, Kuzuryuu, until he was right up in his face.

"So yer awake."  
"Gah!"  
"Tch. C'mon, yer gonna boil if you sit out here any longer, pale little boy."  
Ishimaru wisely decided it wasn't worth mentioning that Kuzuryuu looked like a far _littler_ boy than him.  
"Well, I'm rather tied up at the minute," he tried joking.  
"Yeah." Kuzuryuu reached inside his jacket and pulled out a monstrous knife that looked like it was made out of a large animal's tooth. Ishimaru flinched as his bonds were cut, then hesitantly stood up, wincing and rubbing his stiff arms. "What time is it?" he asked hesitantly.  
"Just after sunrise."  
"But what _time_?"  
"Fucked if I know." the young pirate shrugged, looking irritable.

Ishimaru fidgeted uncomfortably. He liked to know exactly what point of the day he was at - although he supposed there was no point when he wouldn't be able to complete any of his studies or routines. "Anyways, you need to see the captain."  
"W-why?"  
"It's yer fuckin' job, ain't it?"  
"O-oh, yes." Ishimaru had forgotten that scary guy with the ridiculous hair wasn't the actual captain - it was the unconscious guy with the slightly less ridiculous hair.

...Who was probably going to die.  
How could he break that news without ending up dead himself?

After pausing awkwardly to allow Ishimaru an undignified piss over the side of the boat, Kuzuryuu led him down the hatch to the foul-smelling underbelly of the ship, the stench of rotting food and sweaty, closely-compacted humans pervading his nostrils. He winced inwardly. He could really use a nice warm bath, a little sleep alone in his room, and possibly a hug from his mother. Although just being offered a hammock below deck on the second night wouldn't go amiss.  
He wondered to himself, contemplating the fact he thought he would be saved soon enough. How long would he be here?

He'd heard the warnings for young surgeons in his classes: if pirates raided your town, you were likely to be kidnapped because people who could tend to injuries didn't often sign up for piracy voluntarily. But this had always been presented as a positive alternative to death or rape that most other civilians faced, so it had never really seemed like a problem. But now... It was his reality.

The captain's quarters were accessible through the kitchen, although that was a kind word for the tiny, stinking room in which a rather small, fat man was preparing salted meats and hard-looking biscuits. A number of ratty-looking chickens also scurried around, being watched nervously by one of the crew Ishimaru had seen yesterday - a young guy with brown hair which stuck up in a messy cowlick.  
"H-how many people are there on this ship?" Ishimaru ventured, unsure if he was still allowed to ask questions.  
"Twelve. Thirteen now, I guess."  
That was... really pretty small, wasn't it? But he supposed the ship was no giant herself.

Finally they entered by far the most luxurious room on board; even though it stank of blood currently, it was lined with valuable-looking treasures and comfortable furniture. On a bed in the centre the captain lay deathly still, his brother anxiously keeping vigil over him. Ishimaru was still kind of terrified by this guy, but he _was_ under the Hippocratic Oath, and was by no means hard-hearted, so knelt down by the bedside to peel back his makeshift bandage inspect the damage.

Though the blow had certainly damaged Daiya's skull, it didn't look deep enough to have actually hit the brain, which he took to be a good sign. "Can I have a cloth and water?" Ishimaru asked politely, voice surprisingly not cracking under pressure. The surrogate captain nodded and bellowed "CHIHIRO!" once again. Ishimaru was really starting to feel sorry for the poor little lad (well, he supposed) who scurried in with a bucket of water and more towels. Clearly the youngest and weakest got lumped with the worst jobs. He nodded gratefully to the shy little thing who seemed to be dressed in a girl's slip, and dabbed the cloth against the large amount of dried blood that had collected around the captain's head wound.

"So what _is_ your name?" the captain's brother suddenly asked, with the tone of someone who had found it rather rude that Ishimaru hadn't introduced himself.  
"Kiyotaka Ishimaru," he replied briskly. "This may become infected, I'm afraid. There's not much you can do to stave it off when the air down here is so bad. The wound's just too near to the brain for any of the normal solutions to be possible, like leeches. Besides, if any humour is to blame, it's not blood - he's lost enough already."  
"I only asked yer name." the guy snapped, and Ishimaru flinched. This was different to a normal patient, he needed to remember. "But uh... all right."

This seemed to be in lieu of an actual thanks, or at least the closest he would likely get to one. Ishimaru guessed the first mate wasn't exactly used to giving orders yet. He wanted to ask his name back, but was rather terrified of speaking out of turn. "W-well, I'm going to do the bandage back up now! Do you - do you have any cloth supplies? Because, um, my shirt really isn't the best material for blood stoppage." _And the more of it I tear off the colder the nights become_, he added inwardly.

"Yeah. CHIHI- Ah, you've got it already." Mondo said, a little lamely. It was extremely stupid, but he was unsure how to act around this lad, even though he knew he should just be the authoritarian his role required. Ishimaru was doing his best for Daiya's life and really hadn't signed up for this, so he couldn't help feeling a small pool of guilt. "Listen, once you done that, everyone should be up and about, so I'll introduce yer."

He did, making sure that once Naegi and Leon had adjusted the sails for the morning's calmer weather, everyone gathered on the main deck, facing Ishimaru.

He was surprised to see a woman among their ranks, as well as the sweet-looking Chihiro and a man with frankly _improbable_ hair, but as the captain went down the line, introducing people by name and rank, he wondered where the twelfth crew member could be.  
"Nidai, mate. Kuzuryuu, bo'sun. Peko, swordswoman. Souda, carpenter." This was the guy with the shark-teeth grin. Ishimaru did his best to grin back. "Hagakure, gunmaster. Leon, gunmaster's assistant and sailor. Teruteru, chef, Naegi, sailor, and Chihiro, the galley slave. And I'm Mondo Oowada. ...First mate."

"It's nice to meet you all!" Ishimaru greeted rather absurdly. Then... "Isn't there one more?"  
"Oh yeah. GUNDAM!"

"From the skies he appears like a lightning bolt... the shadow that stalks the oceans at night... It is I, Gundam Tanaka!" a voice proclaimed, and then a man in a rather ridiculous amount of clothing for someone on a hot day at sea, scarf and all, dropped out of the crow's nest. "And these... are the dark gods that control your very fate." At this, several rats poked their noses out of his scarf, and Ishimaru suppressed a shriek. Would he really have to live with these kind of people?

Ignoring the man's dramatic entrance, Mondo continued. "Oh yeah. Peko, get him breakfast."  
"That isn't my job," she ... For a woman, she was rather insolent to her captain. But it really seemed more as though she hovered at Kuzuryuu's side, glancing to him for orders before Mondo.  
"I want Hanamura up here, I need a word about yesterday's soup." The little chef blanched at these words - Ishimaru guessed his latest creation hadn't gone down well.

Peko took him roughly by the hand, and he was pulled down into the hold. He was absolutely famished, now he thought of it. "What are we having?"  
"You're having this biscuit, and a bit of lemon to drink. Not too much, it needs to last."

"...This is not a biscuit. It has had insects inside it."  
"That's what's for breakfast." She gave him a withering look. He wanted to say something about how impressed he was that she was able to get along in this environment - not least with all these men at sea - but he got the impression she was the kind of woman with whom that wouldn't go down well. He bit into the disgusting hard lump he'd been offered as enthusiastically as he could manage, then took a hearty swig of the lemon juice; he was glad to see these pirates took scurvy prevention seriousl-

..._Jesus and all the saints his throat was on fire-_

"Gah!" He swallowed the juice down and gasped. "Holy... holy moly, you weren't kidding when you said it's lemon to drink. It's not even sweetened at all?"  
"Nothing sweet to waste." She was remarkably blunt as she paced around the kitchen watching him eat, one hand on her scabbard at all times. She must have... Some sort of soft side, mustn't she?  
She was watching the chickens peck and scurry rather intently. "You like chickens?" he ventured.  
"...Yes."  
"You, er... You're Kuzuryuu's girl, are you?"  
She shot him a look which seemed to suggest it was more the other way around in terms of possession. "Yes, I suppose so."

...Making conversation was going to be impossible, but Kiyotaka Ishimaru was nothing if not persistent. "I was thinking about asking the captain - well, asking the first mate, that is - about... sleeping arrangements."

She looked at him quizically.

"I... would really prefer not to be tied to the mainmast again; it's very cold and very uncomfortable," he continued.

The stare continued.

"So I thought... I mean, I don't want to seem impudent, I understand the position I'm in... But I wondered if I might ask Oowada, you know, if he'd let me... I'd like a _bed,_" he attempted.

At this her eyes widened in rare surprise and she seemed to consider the idea.  
"Not sure the captain's into that, but it's worth a go, if you're that desperate. I guess you're pretty and he picked you out."  
"I... I really don't follow."  
"I mean to say, I'm not sure the captain's into buggery."

"..._Buggery?_ Where did you get the impression I-"  
"You said you wanted to approach him about a bed. We'll sort you out a bunk, of course, but I assumed by that phrasing that you were aiming a little higher." She sipped from a jug of water and sat next to him, seeming completely nonchalant about her mistake. Was that... was that sort of thing _common?_

"Th-that was a total misunderstanding, I - I'm just - I - a hammock is fine." he gabbed, flushing red.

A knock came from above and Oowada opened the hatch, yelling down at him. "Come on, then, Ishida, I'll show you the ropes. Better start makin' yerself useful."

"It's Ishimaru..." he muttered faintly as he stood up and scaled the ladder back up again. Hard work was all well, but after that conversation he really felt dreadfully awkward being around the captain, and suddenly felt like his every action might be misconstrued as some sort of... solicitation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Not explicit, but there's brief non-consensual content in this chapter. Pirates! You have to have a bad one. Sorry, Souda.**

Apparently, "show you the ropes" wasn't to be taken as a figure of speech. Whether coiled up in gigantic, snakelike bundles in which lost chickens could occasionally be found, or hitched up to some seemingly totally unrelated - but apparently vastly consequential - movement up in the shifting sails above where Gundam, and often Souda, could be found huddled in the crow's nest, ropes, it seemed, were the lifeblood of a working ship. Ishimaru freely admitted to knowing hardly anything about life as a sailor; it had never been a career path he'd exactly considered before. And goodness, there was a lot to learn.

As Oowada had to take the helm and issue instructions when the wind began to pick up, he was left to learn his port from starboard from Naegi, a plain-looking sailor who was friendly enough. Although he was glad to not be in the first mate's presence any more due to that awful insinuation Peko had insisted on making, he found that some part of him clung to Oowada as a face he could count on among this crowd of stubbly roughnecks.

"Next, jumping the halyard," Naegi was saying, and Ishimaru made himself concentrate. Even if he wasn't here by choice, he'd endeavour to learn the rules the best he could. "We do this if we need to hoist a sail or a flag quickly, if the wind suddenly changes. I'll stand here by the mast and pull the halyard down-"  
"What's a halyard again?"  
"This rope."  
_They're all ropes!_  
"-And you take up the slack by attaching it to this winch, and then-"  
But as Ishimaru took hasty steps backwards, tugging the heavy line towards the fixture on the edge of the boat, he abruptly tripped into someone small and let go of the line, crying out, as the halyard snapped back up and whipped Naegi in the face.

"Argh!" Naegi yelled, at the same time as Ishimaru yelped from landing heavily on a surely-bruised tailbone. Around him, seawater pooled, and he spun to see Chihiro, the little slave, knocked over with a now-empty bucket of water for swabbing clutched in one hand, wincing heavily.

"What the fuck's goin' on?" Oowada roared and stomped over, as Souda and Leon interestedly poked heads out from up in the crow's nest and down in the hold respectively. Ishimaru balked at the strong language. Kuzuryuu, who had been leaning out over the figurehead, huffed and took over the helm.

"S-sorry, cap'n, it was my fault-" Chihiro was stammering, and Ishimaru began to protest, but before he could utter a word, Oowada had callously and viciously kicked the tiny boy in the ribs, sending him sprawling onto the deck with a whimper.

"Don't be so stupid next time," Oowada hissed. Naegi rubbed the back of his head unhappily, and as for Ishimaru - in him, a certain indignation, which had been stirring quietly in his stomach ever since being roped into this ordeal, now rose like a titan from his chest at the utter unfairness of everything this vile man put him through - and not just him, but little Chihiro, an unwilling _child_.

"You... you bum-bailey!"

He swung a fist at Mondo, causing a _crack_ and a sharp pain in his knuckles as the first mate staggered back, clutching his chin.

Naegi's fist swung back.  
"Never assault the Captain."

Ishimaru fell down once again on his now sharply pained tailbone and winced. The crew members on deck were looking at him with a mixture of amazement, rage, and pity. Oowada had picked himself up and now grabbed Ishimaru sharply by the fists, hissing close into his face.  
"Come with me."  
He followed down to the hold, swallowing, and wondering why he was once again thinking of that conversation with Peko.

Mondo didn't like having to do this, but - he'd lose everyone's respect if he backed down one inch from the man that Daiya had always acted. It was a difficult legacy to live up to, when he liked Chihiro, and honestly felt like shit for treating the kid badly.

But what to do? He'd promised Daiya, after all. Promised that if anything happened to him, he wouldn't disgrace their name.

He led Ishimaru stiffly by the arm, grip tight but neutral, towards the corner of the hold where iron restraints lay piled, and picked up a pair of solid handcuffs.

Ishimaru paled visibly, but didn't protest. Turning to him, taking each wrist in his hand and clapping them into the bonds as Ishimaru obediently stood there - something about it felt strange - intimate wasn't exactly the word, and yet it was as if something passed between them, a tenuous thread of neutrality that came after exchanging mutual blows.

Finally, he made up his mind to speak. "Until you learn some respect."  
"Respect for lawbreakers?" It seemed the medic couldn't help himself. "Oh, respect for my kidnappers? Respect for a man who kicks a child? That respect?"  
Mondo's jaw set. He had about a million things he wanted to say - _I'm not the captain; these aren't my rules, you're here to save my brother's life, this is just the way things are_ \- but only one eventually emerged.  
"Get back on deck and finish Chihiro's job."

Night had come on swiftly, and as hardly any crew remained, Ishimaru yanked the chain that now linked his wrists experimentally. It was short, barely allowing him half an armspan's room to stretch out, and would surely become heavy. The lack of reach prevented any further lashing out, although this raised the question of how he would do sailors' handiwork on the ship now; this setup hardly seemed suitable for lustily tugging upon ropes and sails. Perhaps, he supposed, he'd been demoted for bad behaviour. Although even Chihiro didn't get chains.

Worst of all, however, was the noise. The chains clanked and jingled every time he moved. Like a bad cat with a bell tied to its neck, he would make music wherever he went.

How to drop a bottled message undetected now?  
He laughed to himself sadly as he picked up the swab bucket for at least the fifteenth time and went to affix it to a hook and lever that could be wound down to pick up seawater for scrubbing. What was even the point of hoping he'd get a message out? Who to? What would his family do to rescue him, and who else would care about his predicament?

"You like the design?" said a croaky voice suddenly from behind. Ishimaru jumped, and realised he'd been staring blankly at the crank and lever. Souda stepped out from behind him, grinning. "I made that, you know."

"Very impressive!" he smiled. He liked this man. Souda seemed friendly, for a pirate, at least, and not as intimidating as Peko or Kuzuryuu, the only other two who he'd spent any length of time around (excluding Oowada, who was quite another kettle of fish).  
Souda grinned back, and it was infectious. He clapped a hand on Ishimaru's shoulder, leading him over to the bow of the ship. "Come on, don't tire yourself out, everyone's drinking below deck. You don't hafta work any more."

"I don't drink alcohol," he protested awkwardly. Souda's hand was still lingering on his shoulder. Sort of on his neck. He looked down the prow of the _Crazy Diamond_, and noticed something he hadn't before.  
"Beautiful, isn't she?" said Souda reverently, touching Ishimaru's neck. "We call her Sonia."

The figurehead of the boat was an ornately carved statue of the top half of a woman. Although he couldn't see her well from this angle, he saw that she'd been carved in detail with silky hair, arms held out in a gesture perhaps of protest, and with an expression that seemed mournful, somehow.

"They said she was a princess," Souda murmured in his ear, rubbing his back. "From far away. Fell in love with a man, but she found out he was a murderer, and she threw herself into the sea, crying."  
"That's so sad," Ishimaru frowned.  
Souda's hands were now around the small of his back, and he wasn't so much being patted in a manly fashion as - well - stroked.

Souda's hands ghosted around his trouserline and began to tug down, and that - that was weird.  
"Um?" Ishimaru vaguely asked, and stepped backwards.  
"Hey, come on!" There was that sharklike grin, and hands raised in protest. "We're men, it's just bonding."

"Ah. I understand." He didn't entirely understand. "Bonding. Yes. With other men... Showing our naked bodies in the spirit of comraderie. I see!" He didn't entirely see.

"Haha, sure." Souda began to wiggle out of his own overalls, and placed his hands around Ishimaru's hips. "You're a good sport. Now just stand there and look at the stars, yeah? It'll be done soon."  
"What-"

"SOUDA!" Nidai's voice bellowed from what seemed miles away, the high-spirited drinking below decks. The large boatswain's head stuck out of the hatch like a periscope and swiveled to holler in their direction. "Teru's gonna have all your rum if you're not careful! Get back down here!" Then Nidai paused, and seemed to see the sight before him. "Hey, what're you-"  
"Comin'!" Souda hastily yelled, and let go of Ishimaru, doing his overalls back up in a flash, running towards the hatch.

Nidai frowned, but didn't speak.

Ishimaru wondered what he'd missed.

Later that night, when all the drunkenness was over, he rolled over in his hammock in Peko and Kuzuryuu's quarters, and sighed. Although a vast improvement on the mainmast, it was... difficult to sleep, and he felt certainly awkward being shoved in a room with two paramours where his presence likely wasn't appreciated. Besides, alongside the handcuffs and their awkwardness with finding a nice way to lie, strange thumpings kept emanating from the wall right by his ear.

"Ugh." Clearly, Kuzuryuu was still awake too. "Don't they ever stop?"  
"They're like rabbits," Peko mumbled. "Just ignore it."

Ishimaru didn't really get it, but only said "S-sorry if having me in here is impeding to your... aloneness. With each other."  
Smooth.  
"It's fine," Kuzu snorted. "Best place for ya."  
"R-really? I mean, I don't see why the first mate couldn't put me with Souda. He seemed a friendly fellow."

Peko, unusually, laughed, her brief smile illuminated in the moonlight glancing in through the portholes. "His room's occupied," she explained, nodding in the direction of the thumping and grunting. "By Gundam, that is."  
"I don't... follow."

"You don't often follow, do ya? Just go to sleep." Kuzuryuu grouched.

Two hours later, Ishimaru sat bolt upright in bed after his vaguely dreaming mind had conjured up a thousand creeping, wandering hands clutching at his back and - and other things, too.

He followed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Shh. You'll wake him."

Light cracked through Ishimaru's eyelids as he rolled over in his hammock, yawning. It seemed that today, nobody was waking him up at the crack of dawn for chores, which was nice. Although his hands were stiff and he had lost all feeling in his right arm from pressing his chain against it, he'd managed to sleep reasonably well whilst shackled.

Turning over, he saw that Peko had vacated her hammock and was nestled like a cat next to a half-awake Kuzuryuu, who absently stroked her loose silvery hair. While their embrace wasn't of a completely intimate sort, he hastily pretended to be asleep - friendly as he seemed to be, the young boatswain was still terrifying, and Peko even more so.

He'd been spotted, however. "Morning," Peko greeted shortly, not moving from Kuzuryuu's hammock.  
"Well... Good morning!" Having no idea how to respond to the situation, he went with brutal honesty.

Kuzuryuu's eye flicked lazily to the sea-dampened sunlight filtering in from the porthole next to his head. "We'd better go for breakfast." He and Peko both leapt gracefully out of bed, and both had slept in their boots, it seemed, for they were out the door in less than five seconds. Somehow, despite everything else this bizarre experience had changed for him, this was most jarring to Ishimaru. No nightclothes he supposed he could deal with, but wearing boots to bed? Were they savages? Come to that, he thought, hastily lacing up his own so as not to splinter his feet on the boards, would he ever have a chance for some laundry? His bloodied shirt was in dire need of a good scouring.

Having awoken on time with everyone else for once, this time when he entered the kitchen and dining room were cluttered with raucous, chattering pirates swigging rum (at this o'clock, no less!) and crunching on the hard biscuits he supposed he had to get used to. Only some of them could fit around the small table, headed by Oowada, who was, judging by his sour face, nursing a shot of lemon juice. Among these was Souda, and Ishimaru hastily tried to avoid his gaze.

He wasn't sure what to think now that he knew the friendly carpenter was in that way inclined. His mother had warned him about predatory homosexuals, but it seemed only at sea that he was now encountering the behaviour treated with shocking indifference wherever he turned. What else could have been so different?

As he perched on a barrel eating hard bread and lifting up his legs occasionally to avoid the scurrying chickens, a friendly little face made an arrival.

"Good morning!" Ishimaru raised a hand heartily, causing a series of clanks, as Chihiro took a seat next to him, his legs barely touching the floor.  
"G-good morning," greeted Chihiro, somewhat nervously. His eyes were clearly lingering on Ishimaru's chains, which seemed an odd thing to be fearful of, as they were more than anyone else quite literally in the same boat. "How are you?"  
"Well, all right. Damned hard to sleep in these things, though. I suppose you know that. Or do you? They don't seem to keep you cuffed up."  
Chihiro shook his head, blushing. "I- I don't make any trouble, and I've been here since I was little, so... I don't have anywhere to run away to."  
"Tell you what. Just between you and me, whenever we next make land, I'm out of here like a shot out of a barrel. I'll make for my home port, so you can come along, eh?"  
The poor lad looked terrified. "I don't - I don't know if I could do that..." He looked around furtively, although nobody was paying their conversation the blindest bit of attention, all engaged in hearty chatter. "I'm sorry."  
"There's nothing to be sorry for..." Ishimaru sighed inwardly.

Mondo's days all started the same lately. He would blink awake, look around, then force his creaking limbs up out of the armchair and over to Daiya's pale wrist; check he made it through the night.

It was hard to function in the mornings before he'd had any alcohol, having to punch his way through the temptation to stay hidden in his brother's quarters and wallow in fright and despair. But somebody had to lead the men, and he'd be damned if he failed at the job Daiya had spent a lifetime preparing him for.

The new boy looked chipper at breakfast, chattering to Chihiro between the clinks of his chains. Nobody had said anything yet about his decision to cuff Ishimaru. Of course, it wasn't their place to question his orders, any of them; Although there were times their gazes were all too full of possible doubts, and he felt a strong urge to distribute "How's My Captaining?" surveys just to clear up exactly how poorly he was filling Daiya's shoes.

After clambering halfway up the rigging to speak to Gundam about the weather, and instructing Nidai accordingly as they continued their course for a black market port some four days' sailing away, he grabbed Ishimaru by the shoulder in mid-conversation with Peko and steered him roughly down towards the captain's quarters.

Ishimaru had near-forgotten he was here on medical duty, for life aboard the Crazy Diamond had become his staggeringly mundane norm in just a matter of days. But he wouldn't soon forget being dragged up from the jollyboat by a chorus of shouting men underneath the lashing rain and doing his damnedest to save Daiya's life, and as he entered the room with a sickbed's stench, the weight of his insurmountable task dropped like lead onto his lighter heart again.

The captain was worse this morning, his tanned skin having paled in sickness, and when he checked under the bandage he found a pus-filled wound that congealed in the damp of the boat's underbelly rather than scabbing as it should in a sterile, dry environment. Oowada - Mondo, rather - hovered over him like a bird of prey, which would have been more intimidating if he wasn't so clearly terrified for his brother's wellbeing.

"He really needs to be more in the dry," Ishimaru ventured. "Perhaps, on a sunnier day, we could move him out onto deck, because - the healing's slowed by the miasma down here."  
"I don't like to move him," Oowada replied uncertainly, gazing distractedly into the captain's face. "Won't that disrupt things?"  
"If you perhaps got some of the stronger men to carry him steadily, and we could contrive to arrange something soft to lie on - pool together everyone's blankets, possibly - then-"  
"We can't," Mondo interrupted shortly. "We can't lie him out on deck like a bloody - woman in childbirth."  
"Er, why not?"  
"It's... it's about how things look. 'Ave you ever heard the word democracy?"

Ishimaru stared - he knew of the political theories of Greece, as a dutiful scholar, but didn't expect to find one repeated here. "Yes."  
"Pirate ships are democracies. Bro taught me that word when I could barely stand; it's - important." Mondo seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Ishimaru, his eyes still locked onto Daiya's sleeping form. "Everyone decides if the captain ain't doin' a good enough job. Everyone decides who leads, and - you gotta be _strong_."  
"Well - an injured man is an injured man, isn't he? Surely your shipmates know their captain well enough that they wouldn't have cause for doubt just by seeing him temporarily vulnerable."  
Mondo looked up at him, golden eyes sharp with interest, and Ishimaru momentarily expected his reply to be similarly profound, but Mondo simply blankly said "I dunno what vulnerable means."  
"Clearly," Ishimaru couldn't help but murmur.

Silence stretched between them as Ishimaru performed checks on Daiya, quickly growing from comfortable to awkward. "Er," ventured Mondo, "We're making land to get supplies in a few days, so -let me know what you need. What he needs, that is."  
"Some proper bandaging material capable of compression really wouldn't go amiss. Canvas, or the like. And - I'm thinking of leeches, but, no, he's lost too much blood already. A scalpel for draining bile."  
"He's got _bile_? In his head?"  
"Everyone has bile in their head. It's so moist down here that he clearly has a build-up of black bile. Draining it will do the job."  
"I-... Are you sure you gotta cut his head open again?"  
"I'm afraid it must be done."

Silence stretched, then Mondo gruffly ventured "Thank you."  
"I - um-"  
"I just don't know what I'd have done if he died. I just-" he shook his head. "I can't imagine that."

Ishimaru studied him, and realised, perhaps for the first time, that they were roughly the same age, despite the weathered skin that the sun had given Mondo. He was less a man, more a boy, really, of nineteen or twenty. He didn't suppose Oowada would be able to supply an exact figure.  
"Shouldn't you have a hat?" he found himself asking.  
"...What?"  
"I - I was under the impression all pirate captains had rather extravagant hats."  
"Well. Daiya has a hat, but he don't wear it much. And I - I'm not the captain." Oowada nodded as if to assure himself. "I know they all call me cap'n now, but while Daiya lives, I'm _not_ the captain."

_While Daiya lives._ Ishimaru swallowed.

Mondo clapped him on the back abruptly. "Listen, you go find Teru in the kitchen, he's probably playing cards. Help with lunch."  
"Yes sir."

The chef was indeed at cards, along with Gundam, whose existence Ishimaru kept on forgetting about as he spent so much of his time in the crow's nest. Sat across from each other at the dining table frowning intensely at a game of All Fours, Ishimaru hesitantly entered. "The captain sent me to help with lunch."

"OK, sit down and help me win, then we'll celebrate!" Teruteru answered cheerily, patting a stool on his side of the table - most stools on Gundam's side were occupied by rats or chickens, who all seemed to be rooting for him.  
"I don't know how to play."  
"Then watch and learn, mortal. The gods of fate favour I alone!" Gundam sneered, laying down a jack of spades. The rats squeaked, cheering minutely, and Ishimaru decided he was going to _have_ to find out what the deal was with Gundam and animals.

The game continued, with Teruteru the final victor through a cunning bluff. "My reward, Tanaka!" he cried triumphantly. "A feathered friend for our lunch."

For a moment, judging by Gundam's reaction, Ishimaru thought something quite grave must be going on, but in fact it was just the slaughtering of a chicken. Gundam, however, seemed inconsolable, going white as a sheet and holding the chickens protectively in his arms, where they seemed to become strangely still and mellow. Teruteru snorted and rolled his eyes at Ishimaru as he grabbed a carving knife.

It wasn't as though he'd never seen a bird die before, but as Gundam whispered some tearful sendoff into the chicken's feathered breast and then stood up, hunching his scarf around his face, and swiftly exited the kitchen, it felt to Ishimaru as though a greater, more worldly tragedy had just dawned on him too.

"He can't stand to see animals die," Teruteru explained, roughly grabbing the now-terrified chicken by the neck and shoving it headfirst down on the table, as Ishimaru watched with a horrified fascination. "A true eccentric. Not as if he hasn't killed men, so I don't know what the fuss is."

The knife swung, and the chicken's head rolled swiftly off the table and into a bloody mess on Ishimaru's lap. He gave a choking gasp and watched the animal's eyes roll up in its head, black beads darting around for one second before lying still. The kitchen smelled - had always smelled, he now realised - overwhelmingly of blood, and the chef began to gut the animal with cold indifference.

Ishimaru excused himself hurriedly, and went to be sick over the edge of the ship.  
He had to get out of here.

**This is all I wrote up to, sorry guys! If anyone wants to like, adopt this story? Let me know.**


End file.
